


That Boy is A Monster(ous Jerk)

by WontGetDown



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Gen, Nobody does a slice like Big Rico's, YES HE CAN, can Steve Carlsburg be even more of a jerk?, jealous almost-boyfriend, pre-First Date, sentient food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-23 00:28:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WontGetDown/pseuds/WontGetDown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Carlsburg is just inherently repulsive to long-time inhabitants of Night Vale, but newcomers find him mesmerizingly appealing in all ways. Cecil failed to take this into account.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Boy is A Monster(ous Jerk)

**Author's Note:**

> Fanart of angry Cecil raging about STEVE CARLSBURG is one of my favorite kinds of WTNV fanart. Not that you need any more reasons to hate Steve – really, he’s just a jerk – but I thought I’d give you one anyway.

“Hey,” the man said, sliding into the booth across from Carlos at Big Rico’s. Carlos did not look up at the man immediately; he was preoccupied with trying to free himself from the particularly clingy cheese on his pizza, which was alternating between a shrill squeaking and complaints that he didn’t care about its feelings. He finally managed to extricate himself by drenching the slice and his sleeve in the bubbling purple liquid that Rico’s passed off as an acceptable alternative to Pepsi.

“Sorry about that,” he stated finally, trying very hard to ignore the anguished shrieking that the cheese was emitting as it melted into oblivion. The man chuckled, watching Carlos attempt to mop up the mess he’d made.

“Never apologize for the actions of your food. More often than not, it’s entirely unavoidable, and rarely your fault.” Placing both his elbows on the table, he laced his fingers together and rested his chin on them. “Lovely to meet you! I’m Steve. Steve Carlsburg.”

Finally able to look up, Carlos smiled, made eye contact, and was promptly stricken silent. Steve Carlsburg was entirely breathtaking. It couldn’t be said what _exactly_ about him made him so incandescently attractive, but he somehow managed to be everything that Carlos had ever found appealing in a potential romantic partner at once. The one thing that the scientist was able to definitively pick up on was that Steve Carlsburg’s eyes were the exact shade of the Void. This should have been terrifying, but instead managed to be incredibly mesmerizing.

“Hi,” Carlos managed breathily, after realizing that he hadn’t said anything for the past several minutes. “I’m…”

His train of thought took a nosedive off a very steep cliff as Steve Carlsburg smiled. “Carlos. I know. I’ve heard _all_ about you.” A finger traced its way across the back of Carlos’s hand, and the scientist shivered. “Is it just Carlos, or…”

“Usually,” Carlos murmured, entirely failing to notice that a small, surviving clump of cheese was starting to inch its way across the table toward his sleeve. “I’m a scientist.”

“I’m sure that’s entirely relevant,” Steve cooed. “Your lab is just around the corner, isn’t it?” Picking up a fork, he pinned the cheese to the table in dangerous proximity to Carlos’s hand. “Maybe we could go over there and, uh… do some _science_.”

The word had never sounded sexier. Carlos was just on the verge of passionately agreeing when a bloodcurdling shriek rang out from the main entrance, jarring him out of his trancelike state and causing Steve to narrow his eyes and snarl lowly, showing an alarmingly sharp set of teeth.

“ _STEVE CARLSBURG_!!!” Cecil screamed, storming up to their table and catching the offender by the front of his shirt. “HOW _DARE_ YOU!!”

Carlos stared in shock as Cecil – a being of fairly light and slender build – hauled Steve Carlsburg up out of his seat and held him dangling at least three feet off the floor. Steve looked only mildly perturbed at this turn of events.

“It’s not like you’ve marked him yours, Cecil,” he drawled, remarkably calm under the circumstances and enunciating with astonishing clarity despite the fact that his airway was definitely being crushed. “He’s fair game. _All_ of him. Flowing locks, lab coats, the whole 867.5 yards.”

Cecil shook Steve rather violently (Carlos could hear the man’s teeth clacking together) and spouted off a string of garbled nonsense in harsh, deep tones that resulted in Steve turning white and blood beginning to seep from the corners of Big Rico’s ceiling. Carlos was in the height of panic mode when there was a loud clanking sound and two members of the Sheriff’s Secret Police intervened, dragging Cecil and Steve apart.

“Get lost, _Steve_ ,” one of them barked through his face guard, slapping the offender on the back of his head. Since the Sheriff’s Secret Police were essentially sentient suits of medieval armor (as far as Carlos could tell), this had slightly more of an impact than it might have otherwise. “I mean, _seriously_. You _know_ better. No wonder nobody _likes_ you.”

“Yeah,” his companion chimed in, continuing to restrain a seething Cecil, whose tongue had briefly become long and parted at the tip. His eyes had also gone alarmingly wide, with his pupils narrowing into barely visible catlike slits. “Cecil doesn’t _need_ to mark him. He’s the Voice of Night Vale. _Duh_.”

“That’s STUPID!” Steve shouted, and suddenly Carlos couldn’t recall why he’d ever found the man attractive. “He _always_ gets what he wants, just because he’s the dumb ‘Voice of Night Vale!’ It’s not FAIR!”

“Life’s not fair,” Carlos interjected sharply – the time-old adage of parents to children – and Cecil stopped struggling, turning an adoring and suddenly normal gaze onto Carlos. Suddenly acutely aware that he was the center of attention, Carlos coughed and muttered “Get over it” in an attempt to wrap up his statement.

Steve shrugged out of the grasp of the Secret Police and threw his arms in the air. “UGH,” he shouted eloquently, and stormed out of Big Rico’s in a huff.

Cecil looked absolutely giddy. “I’m terribly sorry about that, Carlos. I should have warned you. Normally _Steve Carlsburg_ is an absolutely despicable human being, but he seems to be able to make out-of-towners think the exact opposite without fail. Ugh, it would have been just _awful_ if he’d managed to convince you otherwise.”

Carlos flushed. “Oh, uh, no need to apologize. I mean – I would have realized the error of my ways, eventually. I, uh… he wasn’t even nice to my cheese.”

Cecil did something with his hand that Carlos had only ever previously seen valley girls in heels and tank tops do. “Ugckh! _Rude_. I mean, it’s really just unacceptable that he even breathes the same air as the rest of us. He should be put in his own private, vacuum-sealed tank and left there to rot.” His eyes widened again. “In fact – ”

“I never finished my pizza,” Carlos said in a rush, determined to head this train of thought off at the pass. “Would you, uh, like to join me? I could use some help corralling what remains of the cheese.”

Cecil _beamed_ at him, all thoughts of vacuum-sealing Steve Carlsburg forgotten. His eyes flickered with something distinctly similar to television static as he batted his lashes.

“Why, Carlos, I thought you’d _never_ ask.”

**Author's Note:**

> The idea of the Sheriff's Secret Police being sentient suits of armor came from this post here: http://tian-yang.tumblr.com/post/57120514849/theyll-keep-a-good-eye-on-your-kids-and-hardly
> 
> As for Cecil, gosh, he's just my imagination plus several headcanons and fanarts that I've seen floating around. It's always fun to try and describe him.


End file.
